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“Please, drink.”
Laurent didn't move a muscle and glared at him. The man held his gaze for a moment and then scoffed at his daring.
“Are all the White Elves so passionate in their rage?”
“Only when we’re being imprisoned by half-naked savages resembling a dead mongrel in smell.”
This time the man laughed, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand. “So polite for you to notice. Now drink.”
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